


Blooma's Test Run

by N7Spartan95



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Fluff, Humor, One Shot, What-If, masakox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26668384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N7Spartan95/pseuds/N7Spartan95
Summary: Yamcha has to help his student/girlfriend test out her new equipment. No big deal—they're just a set of rocket-powered boots and gauntlets. What could possibly go wrong? A short story based on the MasakoX video series "What If Bulma Trained Like Goku?"
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Yamcha
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Blooma's Test Run

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [What If Bulma Trained Like Goku?](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/691639) by Lawrence Simpson (a.k.a. MasakoX). 



> _I'm posting this story (as well as_ Dragon Ball Okan _, which I also encourage anyone reading this to check out) here on Archive of Our Own as of September 26, 2020._
> 
> _Dragon Ball_ , _Dragon Ball Z_ , _Dragon Ball GT_ , and _Dragon Ball Super_ are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Shueisha, and Akira Toriyama. Please support the official release.
> 
> CROSS-POSTED ON FANFICTION.NET.

"Ninety-eight … ninety-nine … one-hundred!" Blooma groaned as she heaved the barbell onto the stand, then sat up on the weight bench and flicked the sweat from her brow. "Whew! All done!"

"You feelin' alright?" Yamcha asked from where he'd been spotting her.

"I'm feeling _great_!" Blooma looked at him over her shoulder with a dazzling smile. "If I wanted to, I could probably do another thirty!"

"Just remember not to push yourself too hard—don't wanna have all that weight falling on you because your arms gave out." That would end badly considering she'd been lifting five-hundred pounds.

"Oh, Yamcha, you worry too much." She gave a playful wink, and heat began to rise in his cheeks. Even after a year of them dating, that gesture still put butterflies in his stomach. Would he ever stop being affected by it? Did he _want_ it to stop affecting him?

Yamcha shot her a nervous smile. "Hey, just lookin' out for ya! If I wasn't, I wouldn't be much of a boyfrie—er, trainer."

Blooma giggled, giving him _more_ butterflies. "Well, the thought's appreciated." The blue-haired beauty stood and sauntered to the nearby full-length mirror. As she gazed at her reflection, she raised her arms and flexed, pulling her skin taut over well-defined muscles. "All this strength training is really paying off. Y'know, I never used to imagine myself with muscles like these—didn't think they'd be appropriate for a pretty young lady. I gotta say, though, these results look killer!"

Her tank top allowed a full view of her ripped arms, and her mid-thigh gym shorts showed off her well-defined legs. Yamcha's eyes traced her hardened curves. His heart beat a few ticks faster.

_Yup. Definitely killer._

In the aftermath of the Tenkaichi Budōkai, it had come as a huge shock when Blooma demanded Yamcha train her. He knew his girlfriend's likes—strawberries, bubble baths, science, technology, shopping, sappy romance dramas—and they did _not_ include martial arts. Seeing the various fighters at the tournament, however, had apparently made quite an impression on her. Each showcased fantastic skill and ability, none more so than Son Goku and Jackie Chun during their finals match. That fight was truly a spectacle. The speed, the dexterity, the power—it _enthralled_ Blooma. She wanted that—to be capable of such great feats instead of being helpless in a fight.

And so, for the past few months, most of her free time not spent in the Capsule Corp. laboratory had been spent in the gym. Yamcha—with occasional help from Goku when he wasn't at Kame House—oversaw both her physical fitness training and martial arts instruction. Though progress was at first slow and frustrating—heavy exercise didn't come naturally to Blooma—she eventually hit her stride.

And, as she grew fitter and packed on more muscle, Yamcha made a surprising discovery about himself: he found buff women _very_ attractive.

Blooma's reflection showed her making a sultry smirk as she massaged her bicep. "You know it's rude to stare, right?"

Yamcha's brain froze—she'd caught him through the mirror. His cheeks went from warm to burning. "O-oh, was I?" He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled anxiously. "I-I didn't even n-notice! S-sorry about that; I j-just … y-you're …"

Blooma laughed and turned around. She rested one hand on her hip, which she jutted to the side, while the other ran through her hair. The pose _greatly_ accentuated her toned physique. "Liking whatcha see?"

He must've been as red as a beet. Yamcha breathed deeply and coughed into his fist. "Uh … yeah. Quite a bit."

"Well, as fun as it is seeing you drool, I need you to pick your jaw up off the floor—you're gonna be my audience while I test out my new gear."

Thank goodness the subject had changed. Yamcha shook his head to clear his mind. "Finally busting it out, huh? This oughta be good."

"Oh, it'll be a whole lot better than 'good'!" Blooma started bouncing on her toes. "Ah, I'm so excited!"

She skipped to a nearby table, on which sat the aforementioned equipment: a bulky set of metal boots and gauntlets. Attached to the gloves' forearms and sides of each boot were small rockets, and thrusters were also built into the palms and soles.

Blooma donned her gear with an open-mouthed grin. "I'm _so_ happy I finally get to use these! You have _no_ clue how frustrating it was not being strong enough to _wear_ them for so long."

The idea for the gloves and boots had come to her early in her training. Physical exercise alone wouldn't put her on par with Goku—or, at least, she lacked the will to push herself to the insane extent he did. What Blooma lacked in brawn, however, she made up for in brains—enough time in the lab would allow her to bridge the gap between hers and Goku's capabilities. Before long, she'd designed and built rocket-powered armor pieces that would, in theory, greatly enhance her striking power.

Unfortunately, when Blooma first tried putting on one of the gauntlets, its weight dragged her to the floor. The super-strong metal she'd used—along with the compact yet powerful rockets—made the gloves and boots _extremely_ heavy. Yamcha couldn't suppress a snicker as his girlfriend struggled to lift her hand off the ground. One tongue-lashing from Blooma later, they agreed that, before she could use her inventions, she'd have to build up her strength.

Now, at long last, she was ready.

Blooma stretched her now-armored arms and legs. "How do they feel?" Yamcha asked.

"Not bad," Blooma said. "Certainly noticing the thirty pounds on each limb, but it's not _nearly_ as cumbersome as before." She punched the air a couple times, then smirked. "Yeah, I think I can get used to these."

"Alright then, I guess the first thing to do is just try hitting something with them." Yamcha tugged at his collar. "Uh, preferably not my face."

"Relax, hot stuff, I wasn't gonna deck _you_. Why'd you think I set up those dummies?" She pointed to the other side of the gym, and Yamcha looked that way to see three human-looking training dummies in plain view.

"Okay, pretty obvious in hindsight." As they walked over, he noticed the sheen on the man-sized figures. "Did you make these outta metal?"

"Yup." Blooma tapped her armored knuckles on a dummy, making a clinking noise. "I wanted to really test the upper limits of my striking power with this new equipment. If it'll let me put a dent in this, I'll be pretty happy with myself." She positioned herself in front of the middle dummy. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she raised her fists. "Okay, ready."

"Let him have it."

With a fierce cry, Blooma threw her arm forward. The forearm rockets fired mid-punch, accelerating the attack. There was a loud clang as the girl's fist struck the dummy's head.

Said head went flying across the room.

Yamcha's jaw dropped. His gaze slowly turned toward Blooma, who looked equally stupefied. "That … that was solid steel," she said. "It felt like … like _nothing_."

"You just … _decapitated_ it."

Blooma stared down at her gauntlets, her mouth half-open and her eyes unblinking. There was silence for several long moments. Then her lips curled in a small smirk. She started to laugh—softly at first, but it gradually grew until she howled with glee. "Oh my god, that was incredible! These work even better than I'd hoped!"

She spun toward another dummy and threw a second rocket-powered punch. The chest collapsed, and the figure toppled over from the force. Blooma shouted and roundhouse-kicked the third dummy, taking off the head and sending it rolling across the floor. As she cackled in triumph, a nervous chill ran through Yamcha—his girlfriend could now easily knock him into next week. Was that terrifying or sexy? Both?

Yeah, definitely both.

"That was … enthusiastic," Yamcha said.

"Oh, I'm on cloud freaking nine right now!" Blooma exclaimed. "I'd call test one a _resounding_ success!"

"Test _one_? You mean there's more?"

"There's definitely more." She flexed her gauntlets' fingers. "I think now I can go ahead and test the flight capabilities."

Had he heard that right? "Wait, wait, wait, _flight_? You're joking."

"What, d'you seriously think I'd strap rockets to these things and stop _just_ at boosting my attacks? It was the next logical step. Besides, if Goku gets to fly around on that little cloud of his, why can't I have something?"

Yamcha gave an impressed whistle. "Point taken. Well, in that case, I guess we're going outside."

"In a bit." Blooma opened a panel on her left gauntlet to reveal several rows of buttons. She started tapping the controls. "For now, I'm just gonna try hovering a few feet off the ground."

"Uh, I'm not sure if that's a good idea, what with the ceiling and—"

"It'll be fine; I'll only be using ten percent thrust capacity."

"Blooma, seriously, you're gonna hurt yourse—"

"Chill out, Yamcha—I got this." She closed the control panel and lowered her arms, her palms pointing downward. "Firing in three … two … one … go!"

In a loud burst of rocket fire, Blooma was blasted upward. Her head immediately slammed into the ceiling. The thrusters cut off, and she fell to the floor with a thud.

"BLOOMA!" Yamcha rushed over, knelt down, and cradled her in his arms. Her eyes were unfocused, and she had a nasty head bruise. "Blooma, you okay? Please, I _need_ you to tell me you're okay! C'mon, babe, say something!"

A single quiet noise escaped her lips: "Owww …"

* * *

"Okay, so I might— _might_ —have gone a little overboard with the thrust," Blooma said, holding an ice pack to her head. They were now on the balcony, and the young genius sat in a chair by one of the tables.

"A _little_?" Yamcha said. "With how hard you hit your head, you're lucky you don't have a concussion. I _told you_ we should've gone outside first."

Blooma snarled and banged her fist on the table. "Okay, Yamcha, I get it—I screwed up! You don't have to rub it in my face!"

He defensively raised his hands. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad! I just … you really had me worried there for a minute. As your trainer _and_ your boyfriend, I'm supposed to look after you, and seeing you get hurt like that … well, it's hard to watch."

Blooma glared at Yamcha for a few seconds before her scowl softened. She gave a resigned sigh as she set her ice pack on the table. "It's alright." She stood, walked up to him, and playfully patted his cheek. "You're lucky you're cute when you're worried."

Yamcha's cheeks grew warm again. "Right, ah, moving on." He cleared his throat. "Gonna go lower on the thrust this time?"

"I'll try two percent; that should be enough to let me hover without sending me skyward. And, worst case scenario, at least I won't be hitting my head on the ceiling … again." Blooma fiddled with her controls for a moment before pointing her hands downward. Her eyes flickered with nervousness, and hesitation was in her voice as she counted down: "Firing in three … two … one …"

The thrusters fired, and Blooma rose a couple feet into the air. She yelped while swaying from side to side, flailing her limbs in an effort to gain balance.

"Easy, easy!" Yamcha said.

It took a minute, but she eventually found her footing, so to speak. Once she was used to hovering in place, Blooma adjusted her limbs and drifted to one side of the balcony. As she neared the railing, she brought her arms forward, her palm thrusters slowing her to a stop. She then turned around and floated to the other end of the balcony the same way.

"Okay, good, good," she said. A grin formed on her face. "I feel like I'm getting the hang of this!"

Blooma flew around the balcony, giggling all the while. Gradually, her movements became more fluid and precise, and, before long, she glided around with the grace of a dancer. Yamcha was captivated—the speed with which she was mastering her mobility was remarkable, and her sheer joy at doing so …

It truly put a smile on his face.

Blooma came to a stop in front of him. Her rockets cut off, and she dropped to the ground. "Now, _that_ is what I'd call a successful test!" she exclaimed. "A little awkward at first, but, once you get a feel for 'em, they handle like a dream!"

"Yeah, and it didn't take you long to catch on, either," Yamcha said. "I gotta say, Blooma, this invention of yours is looking pretty rad."

She laughed pompously and made a grand gesture with one hand. "What else do you expect from the daughter of the brilliant Dr. Brief?" Blooma sighed contentedly. "To have this brain along with such beauty _and_ brawn"—she flexed her arm for emphasis—"it's really not fair to all those other girls out there, is it?"

Smugness aside, Yamcha couldn't argue with her on that.

"At this rate, I'll be taking to the skies like Goku on his Kintō Un in no time!" Blooma said. Suddenly, her eyes widened as if in realization. She looked down at her gauntlets, her smile growing mischievous. "In fact …" Her fingers started to dance over the control panel as she chuckled impishly.

"Uh, Bl-Blooma," Yamcha said, stricken with nerves, "let's not get too carried away here. Walk before you run and all—"

"Screw that—maximum thrust!"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait—"

A deafening roar. A bright flare. A rush of wind that made Yamcha shield his face. The blast dissipated, and he looked up to see Blooma shooting into the sky. "WOOOOO!"

"Aw, dang it."

Her form shrank as she barreled upward, becoming barely perceptible by the time she leveled out. Even so, Yamcha could see she was spinning wildly. He gulped.

_C'mon, get a handle on it!_

Eventually, the spinning stopped, and Yamcha released his breath. Blooma began to show better control over her flight—banking to turn, angling upward for ascent, tilting downward to descend.

"I've got it!" Blooma yelled, just audible from that distance. "I'm doing it—I'm _flying_! Woohoo!" She whooped for joy as she performed a quick loop-de-loop, then dove toward the nearby buildings. With quick, precise turns, the girl weaved around the various skyscrapers. She at one point zoomed over the balcony and exclaimed, "This is awesome!"

Yamcha laughed heartily, his fears abated. "Alright! Way to go, Blooma—you're a natural!" He had to admit—even when compared to stuff like Muten Roshi's Kamehameha, a wish-granting dragon, and a kid turning into a giant monkey—this was one of the coolest things he'd ever seen.

"Okay, heading in for a landing!" Blooma started flying back toward the balcony. As she approached at high speed, Yamcha's cheerfulness faded. He felt a rising sense of apprehension. Then panic.

Blooma wasn't slowing down.

"Babe, you're coming in too fast!" Yamcha yelled. "Hit the brakes!"

She was close enough now that her eyes could be seen widening in alarm. "Oh _shit_!" Blooma threw her arms and legs forward, then fired her thrusters in the same direction. This slowed her somewhat, but not enough.

It wasn't until too late that Yamcha realized something he really should've noticed sooner: Blooma was about to fly _right into him_.

_Aw, crapbask—_

She rammed into him, flinging him off his feet and knocking the wind out of him. They hurtled a good distance before he landed on his back and slid to a stop. Yamcha groaned in pain, his eyes shut tight.

"Gah!" Blooma cried out. "Dang it, I'm _so_ sorry, Yamcha! I can't believe I didn't think to slow down a lot sooner!"

He gasped as air rushed back into his lungs. "Don't worry about it; I'm fine," he said, opening his eyes. "It'll take more than that to seriously hurt—"

His brain screeched to a halt—Blooma was right on top of him. In a rather … _suggestive_ position. Too nervous to look her in the eyes, Yamcha averted his gaze downward. This immediately backfired: now he had an eyeful of her cleavage.

Blood rushed to his face. As well as … _other_ places.

_Please don't notice, please don't notice, please don't notice, please don't—_

Blooma snickered, drawing his eyes back to her face. Her cheeks were bright red, and she wore a playful smile while twirling her hair around her finger. "So, uh … hehe … happy to see me?"

Yamcha hadn't thought it possible for his face to get any hotter, but it did. "U-um, well, I, uh, i-it's just that, um, you're kinda … yeah." No way would he live _this_ down.

She leaned forward until her face was inches above his, her eyes seductive. "I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"

"N-n-no! I mean, kinda, b-but in a good way! It's just, well, you're _really_ close, so I can't really help how I—"

Her mouth cut him off. Blooma's kisses would always reduce him to mush, and this time was no exception. His mind went blank, leaving only her soft lips and the tingling sensation along his spine. All too soon, the kiss ended, bringing him back to reality. His object of affection leaned into his ear and whispered alluringly, "I'll help you ease some of that tension later, 'kay?"

It was official: his girlfriend was trying to drive him mad—in the best way, mind. Honestly, he was more than okay with that.

Yamcha's relief when Blooma got off him was tinged with slight disappointment. She extended her gauntleted hand, which he took to lift himself up.

"Alright," Blooma said, "rough landing aside, the flight systems work _phenomenally_ well. We can chalk that one up as another win." She pounded a fist into her palm. "Time to _really_ put these puppies through their paces."

"What else is there to test?" Yamcha asked. "We've already established you can fly like a bird and hit like a truck with those things on."

"True. In theory, these boots and gauntlets _should_ give a big boost to my combat performance. What we need to do now is see how well they handle in practice."

"In practice?" Yamcha suddenly had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Uh, I-I'm not sure I like where this is go—"

Blooma grabbed his arm and started dragging him to the door. "C'mon, studmuffin. You and I are about to have ourselves a spar."

* * *

As they reentered the gym, the blue-haired inventor seemed downright giddy. Yamcha, not so much. All he could think about were the various ways this sparring match might go horribly wrong. With the power Blooma now packed thanks to her gear, he could end up badly injured. Or worse.

At least Goku had recently begun looking for the Dragon Balls again. They'd wish him back if something bad happened, right?

"You ready for this?" Blooma said once they reached the sparring circle.

"Not really," Yamcha said, "but I don't have a lotta choice here, do I?"

His opponent started her stretches. "Why the jitters? It's not like we haven't sparred a million times before. Heck, you pretty much always beat me."

"Yeah, but you didn't have rocket-powered limbs before, so sorry if I'm a little worried about ending up like _that_." He pointed to the battered dummies positioned close by.

Blooma rolled her eyes. "You seriously think I'd put your life in danger? Gimme some credit, why don't ya?" She tapped on her gauntlet's controls. "There, I've set the attack thrusters to a lower setting. They'll only provide enough force to incapacitate—not turn you to mush."

"It's still gonna hurt like hell, isn't it?"

Blooma grinned cheekily. "Only if you get hit."

Somehow, that wasn't reassuring.

Her smile faded and her eyes narrowed as she entered her fighting stance: right foot forward, left arm reared back, fingers curled like claws. Exactly as he'd taught her. Her right leg bounced slightly—more than usual, she was itching to get started.

 _Just relax. She may be hitting with more power, but her technique should still be the same as before. Stay focused, keep your guard up, and this_ won't _end with your teeth getting knocked out._

Yamcha took a deep breath and assumed his stance, which mirrored his pupil's. "Go for it."

There was no hesitation. Blooma's rocket boots roared to life, launching her forward as she let loose a battle cry. He barely reacted in time to block her opening punch, which sent vibrations through his arm.

_Wow, that stings._

Blooma unleashed a flurry of rocket-powered punches, kicks, and palm strikes. With the speed of her attacks, Yamcha was only just able to dodge or parry them. And they were hitting _hard_ —no doubt he'd have bruises all over his arms and legs tomorrow. Fortunately, her style was still familiar—it was, after all, his own, though not as refined. That made it easier to read her movements and keep up.

Blooma growled, clearly frustrated at her inability to get through his guard. She quickly backed off a few feet and fiddled with her left gauntlet's controls. A second later, her boots' sole thrusters fired, and she was hovering in midair.

_She's switching things up._

Blooma rocketed toward him and threw another punch, which he blocked. As Yamcha sent out a palm strike to counter, she flew up and over his head. He swiveled around just in time for her metal boot to smash against his temple. A sharp pain shot through his skull, and he tumbled to the floor.

"Ha!" Blooma exclaimed. "Got you!"

Yamcha slowly rose onto his knees, clutching his head. "Not bad," he said with a groan. "Just don't get cocky."

She cracked her knuckles with a sinister laugh. "Oh, you're _mine_ now."

Not exactly the context in which he'd have _liked_ to hear that from her.

Yamcha got on his feet, his head feeling like it would split open any second. No way could he afford to take more hits like that. He'd have to be mindful of his opponent's mobility—anticipate attacks from unexpected angles.

The devilish glee in Blooma's expression was unsettling—she wasn't about to go easy on him. And why would she? Yamcha had bested her in all their previous spars, which always aggravated her. Now, however, she smelled victory.

And she was _hungry_ for it.

As soon as Yamcha reentered his stance, Blooma dove back in and resumed her assault. In between attacks, she'd use her rockets to swiftly change position and strike from another direction. Her barrage came from all sides: front, left, right, above. She was _relentless_. Yamcha struggled to defend against her onslaught, every so often smarting from a glancing blow.

He was getting worn down. If he didn't turn this around soon, he'd lose.

_Focus. Find a pattern._

Through the blur of armored limbs and rocket flare, one began to emerge. Palm strike from the front. Dash to the left, then kick. Right side, then punch. Axe kick from above. Right. Above. Back to front. The cycle repeated.

When Blooma threw a punch at his right, he knew _exactly_ where she'd go next. She boosted upward and launched another downward strike, but Yamcha sidestepped, jumped, and landed a roundhouse kick in her midsection. With a pained yelp, she crashed into the ground.

"Ha ha!" Yamcha cried out. "Howdya like that?"

Blooma glared daggers at him. She sprang to her feet and lunged for him again. Palm strike, dash left, kick, dash right—

He delivered a hard elbow to her gut. A howl of pain, and she bent over, holding her stomach. Yamcha backed off slightly and smirked to himself. He had this.

Blooma's head rose back up, and his satisfaction evaporated. There was just one way to describe her expression: utterly _pissed_. She let out an enraged scream and charged, her arms reared back for a vicious double punch.

In her anger, she'd left herself wide open.

Yamcha lunged at her, a red ki aura enveloping his arms.

"RŌGA FŪFŪ-KEN!"

His hands were a blur as he unleashed a hurricane of punches and clawing attacks on Blooma's torso, which stopped her dead in her tracks. He then reared both arms back, made a wolf-like howl, and delivered a powerful double palm strike. His girlfriend was hurled out of the sparring circle and into the nearby wall. She slid to the floor with a moan, making no effort to stand back up.

He'd actually _won_. Hard to believe, considering how the match had started.

Yamcha sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow. He walked over to Blooma—who leaned against the wall, panting—before offering his hand. For a moment, she stared at it. Then her lips curled into a snarl, and she slapped his hand away.

"What?" he asked.

"Don't 'what' me!" Blooma exclaimed. "I should've won that!"

Yamcha raised his hands in defense. "Whoa, take it easy. It was just a friendly spar—no need to get upset."

"Oh, bite me!" The girl got back on her feet. She turned away from him, arms crossed and lips pouted. "Ugh, this sucks. I thought for sure this new gear was gonna make me unstoppable—put me ahead of Goku, even. I was _so_ excited to try it out and actually _beat_ you in a spar for once, but now … now, even with it, I just got my ass kicked. It's like it didn't do me any good."

"Are you kidding? You were fantastic in that fight! All that power and mobility from your equipment—I was really on the ropes. Pretty much the only thing that saved me was your technique being a bit lacking."

Blooma glared at him from the corner of her eye. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Yamcha squirmed. "H-hey now, I don't mean any offense. I just mean your movements were simple and a bit too predictable. You had a good idea using your rockets to dash around, but you still weren't varying up your attacks as much as you needed to." Blooma's eyes narrowed further. "It's not that you're bad—far from it! Style-wise, you're still just a newbie is all."

After a short pause, her angry expression faded, and she sighed dejectedly. "Looks like I still have further to go than I thought."

"Getting good at martial arts takes _years_ of practice. You've been at this for, what, four months? Don't get me wrong, you're doing really well, but mastering this is something that's just gonna take time."

Blooma raised an armored hand and stared at it in contemplation. "Heh. Guess I can't invent my way around that part, huh?"

Yamcha placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll get there. There's no need to rush. And when you _do_ have your technique down"—he chuckled—"oh boy, is it gonna be something to see. I tell ya, a Rōga Fūfū-ken with those gauntlets would be freaking _scary_."

A small smile came to Blooma's lips. "It'll be even scarier once I get around to building that power suit I've been drawing up blueprints for."

Of course she was doing something like that. If Yamcha knew one thing about her, it was that she'd never rest on her laurels when it came to her inventions. She always strove to make something better than before—to push her science and engineering skills as far as possible. Come to think of it, it was a lot like Goku's insatiable drive to become stronger through training.

Perhaps that was part of the reason he'd inspired her.

Blooma clenched her fist, fire back in her eyes. She turned toward her boyfriend. "Hey, Yamcha, I just wanna say … well, I appreciate all your help these past few months. I know I can be impatient and kinda hotheaded sometimes—"

"Kinda?" Yamcha said jokingly.

Her voice took on a serious edge: "Watch it."

"Right, sorry. Go on."

"What I'm trying to get at is, even when I've been difficult, you've stuck it out with me through all this. Organizing my training schedule, teaching me your fighting moves, pushing me to keep going even when I wanted to quit. Sure, Goku's a big help too whenever he's here, but … honestly, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have made it nearly this far. So I guess all I can say is … thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it. What're boyfriends for if not support, right?"

Blooma batted her eyes. "Oh, I can think of a few things." She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in for a peck on the lips. Even that was enough to get his heart racing.

_Kami, consider me forever in your debt for this._

Blooma's nose wrinkled, and she sniffed under her arm. "Blech! All that sparring's gone and made me all sweaty and stinky. _Ugh._ I'm gonna take a shower."

Yamcha chuckled. "Okay."

His sweetheart wore a sultry expression as she booped his nose. "You're gonna join me."

It took him a moment to recover from the shock. "B-better!" A cute giggle, a flirty wink, and she was pulling him toward the exit.

No, Yamcha didn't really want those butterflies to go away.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know what most of you are probably thinking: why do I keep calling her "Blooma" instead of "Bulma"? I have a reason for that. You see, back when I started writing _Dragon Ball Okan_ , I had to decide what names I was going to use for the members of Bardock's squad. Rather than using their English dub names (Tora, Fasha, Borgos, and Shugesh), I opted to use variations of their Japanese names that best highlighted the puns behind said names (Toma, Selypa, Totapo, and Pumbukin). It's for this same reason that I use the spelling "Freeza" instead of "Frieza" for our favorite space tyrant. And, because I'm someone that likes consistency, I decided I had to abide by this rule for _all_ of the characters' names.
> 
> So, why "Blooma"? Through a bit of digging on the Kanzenshuu forums, I found out that her original Japanese name, romanized as "Buruma," is a shortened version of "burumā," which is essentially the Japanese way of saying "bloomers." Henceforth, the rendering "Blooma" gets the pun across the best and also matches the pattern behind all her family members' names (Dr. Brief, Tights, Trunks, Bra, and so on).
> 
> Now, I know what you're thinking: in her first appearance in the anime and manga, her name is written on her shirt as "Bulma," so why not just use that? Well, Toriyama has also provided such spellings as "Gokuh," "Kulilin," and "Red Ribon," so I'm just gonna go with the spirit of the joke instead of the letters on a shirt in this case. Besides, there's at least one piece of artwork by Toriyama where he has "Bloomers" written on her jacket, so there.
> 
> Yes, I did draw from the _Iron Man_ movies for this story—specifically, the scenes in the first film where the Mark II is being designed and tested, as well a few snippets of dialogue (that last exchange between Blooma and Yamcha is a reference to a bit between Tony and Pepper in _Iron Man 3_ ). Since the original What If by MasakoX basically turns Blooma into the _Dragon Ball_ universe's Tony Stark, I thought it was a fitting homage.
> 
> Also, this is my first serious attempt at writing romantic chemistry (not counting a few bits between Gine and Bardock in _Dragon Ball Okan_ ). Hopefully, it comes across well. Let me know if it's any good and/or offer advice on how I can do this sort of thing better in the future.
> 
> Please review.


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